Page 9 of Wrestling With Werewolves

You keep staring that hard, I’m gonna think you wanna suck my dick, my wolf growls.

“Nope,” I say aloud. “He’s bitching about the weather.”

Liar.

“Liar,” Connall says with a snort.

The reality is that my wolf has only been talking to me since Leighton died. I don’t know why he chose that moment to make himself more present. I can only assume it’s because a pack alpha’s first and primary objective is protecting his pack, and Leighton’s death revealed the threat of dark magic.

It should have been a blessing to receive that level of power with my wolf. But in the short time he’s been vocal, Big Daddy has overwhelmed me with commentary that almost never matches my own thoughts. We’re still finding our footing too, and it’s really fucking frustrating.

Thankfully, he falls silent as Connall and I head up Shifter Hollow’s main drag toward the portal station where Lola and Marco will be arriving. By the time we get there, a small crowd is gathered despite the fact that I specifically told everyone not to come. I need to cover some details with Marco, and I don’t want to do that in front of my entire pack.

When I growl at the gathered shifters, Connall takes the hint and shoos the onlookers away from the portal station’s door. Two stories of windows line the front of the giant one-room building. Inside, it’s just an open room, the round green portal on the far side. Its surface glimmers and ripples peacefully. At each side stand members of my pack. It’s our job to guard the portal door that connects us to one other haven.

Hana, Arkan’s lovely centaur wife, smiles when Connall and I enter the station. “Hello, Alpha and Second.”

What a smoke show, Big Daddy growls. We’ve never mounted a centaur. We should see how Arkan feels about sharing.

Oh my goddess, he’s insufferable.

“Hey, Hana,” Connall says.

I give her a friendly smile, keeping my lips zipped, lest some of Big Daddy’s stupid internal monologue leaves my mouth.

Hana tucks a strand of dark hair behind her pointed ears. “Hey, Big Daddy.”

He howls inside my mind, so damn loud, I wince and clap a hand over one ear.

Hana chuckles. “Seems like he’s really loud in there, huh?” Her expression goes serious. “Vikand might have suggestions for you. I’m sure he’d love to find a way to be useful, if you wished for some insight into Big Daddy's…strength.” Her dark eyes wrinkle mirthfully at the corners.

“Noted,” I say agreeably. I’ll find her father-in-law, Vikand, later, because the extra voice in my mind is making me crazy. I always felt at peace with my wolf until I could hear his specific thoughts—they seem to center primarily around sex, something I haven’t had with another person in a very long time. For now, I’d like to evict him and get some peace and quiet.

The portal creaks and shifts, the surface rippling outward in waves. Hana, Arkan, Connall, and I take a few steps backward. A green tunnel shoots into the room and then retracts, the portal’s surface becoming almost mirror-like. A trio of shifter males walk through carrying luggage. A woman follows, stepping gracefully through the doorway.

Sound muffles as I blink slowly. The omega’s black curls are stacked high, framing her face like a halo. Night-black eyes scan the room. Her lips are dark too, a tiny, familiar freckle on one side of her plump mouth.

Hubba hubba, Big Daddy purrs. Let me out.

No, I bark, reality slapping me.

That stunning woman who just stepped out of the portal, the woman whose eyes meet mine as she smiles? That’s Lola.

Lola, who I carried in my jaws when she couldn’t keep up with the pack.

Lola, who I haven’t seen in decades.

Lola, my best friend’s daughter.

My mouth goes as dry as a desert.

Connall kicks my foot. “That her, Alpha?”

Lola’s longtime bodyguard, Nuñez, trails her out of the portal. He’s the highest-ranking male in this group, apart from Marco, whom I realize with a start isn’t here.

But I can’t pull my eyes from the female who stalks gracefully across the portal station floor, a soft-sided guitar case slung over her back.

She beams at me and, when she gets close enough, hops up and throws both long arms around my neck, pecking my cheek with lips as soft as silk. She floods my nose with the scents of oranges and sweet cream.

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